A stranger asks me how old I am. I look at my hands to remember. You are much older than me, the stranger says. She gets close to my face and walks around and around me as though she's looking at a sculpture. I watch my face age in a mirror. My eyes sink into their sockets. The stranger laughs. None of this ruffles me. I put on a red scarf and ask the stranger to make me a cup of tea.
